Who’s the Boss, Pt.2…
BL got off the bed and went into the bathroom. The master bedroom had an ensuite bathroom, one wall of which was entirely made of glass. This meant that whoever was lying in bed had a clear view of whoever was in the shower. The architect was clearly a pervy bastard as it also had a detachable shower head, of which BL was making thorough usage. She washed off her strap-on and released the straps, letting it fall to the tiles. Leaning against the tile, head back, eyes closed, she set the shower head to ‘massage’ and pressed it firmly against her pussy, letting the strong hot pulsating stream do its work. It wasn’t long before her legs began to tremble and her knees buckle as she succumbed to the relentless orgasmic onslaught.
I lay on the bed watching her, my limp cock stirring back to life at the sound of her moans. I began to stroke it gently as I watched her. She stared at me through the misted glass, falling to her knees as she came again, beckoning me with one finger to join her. I leapt up, my cock pointing the way like a divining rod for sex and entered the shower.
BL knelt on the floor, reaching out to grab my cock and pulling me roughly over to her. She took me completely in her mouth and rocked back and forth vigorously. I braced one hand against the wall of the shower and grabbed a fistful of her hair with the other. I pulled her up by her hair and pressed my body up against her, pushed her against the shower wall. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me hard on the mouth, her tongue thrashing about like an angry snake.
She lifted one leg and hooked her thigh over my hip. The head of my cock prodded at her perineum. Reaching down, she grasped me firmly and guided the head to the right position, but something about the angle and our height difference defied my best efforts to penetrate her. Sighing in frustration, she turned around and bent over, spreading her legs wide and pressing her hands against the shower wall. “Tell me when you’re just about to cum,” she advised. Grabbing her ass, I guided my cock into her from behinds and began fucking her with strong rhythmic strokes. Her arms could not push back against the force of it pushed her forward, her breasts and the side of her face mashed up against the glass.
I felt the familiar tingling in my balls. “Ok, get ready,” I warned her. BL turned around and dropped to her knees. She took the tip of my cock in her mouth and pumped the shaft. I cried out as I came in her mouth, back arched, hips thrust forward, pulling her hair with both hands. She worked her mouth back and forth along the full length of me, sucking and gulping, milking me of every drop. For me, orgasms from oral sex are distinctive; less powerful but more intense. Similarly for those when standing so, the two combined for a particularly exquisite orgasm, heightened and prolonged.
BL stood up and kissed me hard, the ammonia taste of cum on her lips, and left me in the shower to wash up. Before I was done, she had dried off, dressed and raced off back to work with a satisfying squeal of tires on my driveway.